Fate it is
by gyikhu
Summary: We know what Kurtis thinks meeting Lara... but what does Lara think? I couldn't miss the chance to find it out. Same story, same situation, a different POV. See which one you like more.


**Well, the story didn't leave me. After I wrote the small one-shot from Kurtis's POV, I simply had to ponder what was going on in Lara's head. So here it goes. The same story, the same conversation from her perspective and with her thoughts. Let's see which one you like it more. Leave a review if you feel like telling me :)**

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"I'm not sure what you want from me," I say, looking around in the apartment. The man called my out of the blue, offering me some artefact, but now that I've come to visit him, he's reluctant to tell me what this is all about.

"You know, Ms Croft, the sword has been in our family for hundreds of years. I need to know you're worthy for me to hand it over to you." The old man shuffles back to the armchair, and I'm not sure anymore what I'm doing here. I heave a sigh, my fingers playing with the keys of my motorbike.

"Why did you call me if you're unsure?" I watch him with careful eyes, and then answer with a shake of my head when he offers me some tea. It's too late for that by now, and I don't trust him even if the old man looks fairly harmless. He doesn't say anything, looking like he's about to fall asleep with the cup in his hand.

I amble around, studying the library, not wanting to seem impolite by disturbing the silence. I have enough on my mind to think of anyway.

It's been some months since I returned from Prague, and I can't shake off the memory of it. Of course the adventure itself was dangerous, but there's one thing that keeps lingering on my mind. Better to say one person. I remember the lot of blood, but I've never found his body so it still haunts me if I could have done something to save him.

Pondering, I walk to the shelves, running my eyes over the lines of book in front of me. _Fighting the evil_ – I read the title of one thick volumes, and he's back on my mind. Maybe he's not dead after all.

When I turn back, the old man is quietly snoring in the armchair, so I walk over and place the cup on the small table, careful not to wake him. Probably on another day I'll find out what he wants to tell me. He knows my number anyway.

Silently, I leave the room, thinking what a waste of time this has been. I close the door behind me, and jog down the few stairs that lead back to the street where my bike stands. It's late at night, no one is around. The road is still wet, the lights of the street lamps dimly reflect in the puddles, but the houses are dark and silent.

From the corner of my eyes, I see some movement farther down the road, I look there for a second, but it's just a shadow that disappears again. Maybe my senses betrayed me. So I jump on my motorbike, and drive away, seeing that blue pair of eyes in front of me again.

I leave the bike in front of the manor as I don't want to bother bringing it back to the garage. Entering the gate I wonder what I should do now. Even if it's late, I don't feel tired.

I don't know the reason, but his strange weapon comes to my mind that I found in Prague. After he was gone. The memory confuses me a little bit, and I wonder if I ever find out what it's good for. Why am I even thinking about this?

I shrug, and decide to do some research on the sword the old man was talking about. Waste of time or not, he's aroused my curiosity. When I hold the book in my hand, my mind suddenly swirls to other thoughts. Is this what I want to do all my life? Chasing shadows, hunting artefacts? And be lonely? The blue eyes come back to me a second time tonight. Forget it, Lara, I tell myself. He's gone.

I'm about to focus my attention on the book again when I hear some faint knocking. At first, I'm not even sure if I really heard it, so I listen, but there's silence. Who would come to see me so late at night? I look at the clock overhead. It reads almost midnight.

Convinced that I was not fantasizing, I stand up and walk to the door. I should really ask Winston to repair it, I think when I heard the creaking. Then I look up, and face the person I've been never imagining to see again. Kurtis Trent. Surprise… no, shock runs through me that I can't even hide. I'm sure it's all written on my face, but I can't do anything against it.

"Hey," he says, standing there, looking at me with open curiosity. He looks good. Damn good. Better than I remembered. Tall, lean, strong, with a glance of clear blue like the sea. What is he doing here?

"Kurtis?" What a stupid question, I blame myself. Who else would he be? "You're alive." Wow, I keep stunning myself. Could I have said anything more stupid? I have to get my head clear.

"I'm sorry I left in Prague, but…"

"Don't worry about it." Just be cool, I tell myself. It's the past, no need to show I still think about it from time to time. Though, for a fraction of a second I have the urge to take a step forward, and see what would happen if the two of us get close enough once more. Not a good idea, I decide, and turn around to walk inside again, leaving the door open for him.

"I know it's late. I'm sorry about that," he says, looking around. His face shows appreciation and I only realize it then that he's never been here before. And then his stare moves to me, it runs down my body, stops at my cleavage and I know so well what could be on his mind. Oh yes, that glint in his eyes tells me everything.

"Don't keep being sorry about everything. What are you doing here?" I won't make it easy for him, so I keep my voice steady, although his glance sends a quiver down my spine. A not at all unpleasant quiver that surprises me as well. I watch him walk over to the sofa at the fireplace, casually sitting down. Too casually actually. That's how you want to play it, I ponder, and decide to accept the challenge. If Mr Cool acts this way, I'm ready to play.

"I'm here for my chirugai." For your what? For a moment I have no idea what he's talking about, but then the strange object comes back to my mind again.

"That's how you call that thing." I smile a bit, trying if I can confuse him. Oh yes, I can. His stare shifts to me, then away again as if he's trying to urge me to do what he wants. This will be a very interesting night.

"Yes, and I'd love to have it back." Well, he managed to sound steady, but I know he isn't. It's so delightful to watch his struggle.

"Anything else I may serve you with?" I can't miss the change to make him feel a bit more miserable. I might be evil, but I enjoy this. He was so cool back in Paris, and he is so charmingly boyish now. I cross my arms over my chest, sending him a challenging look.

"All I want is my weapon, and I'm out of here." Okay, so he is still in control, but this will change very soon. Now that he's here, I'll show him who I am. Kurtis Trent, you won't play with Lara Croft again. I enjoy his hungry look more than I thought. Probably he doesn't know about it, but I can see it on his face.

"As you wish." I give him the look, and turn to walk up the stairs. Having a few minutes alone is a good idea right now. I pull in a deep breath, let it out again while I walk to my room, analysing what's going on inside me. He stirs me. Stirs me in a way no one else ever has. I have enough of lonely nights, I decide and pick up the weapon to give it back to him. At least that's how it will look like.

"It's an interesting thing, your weapon," I say when I'm down the stairs again, and I can see that I surprised him. I hold out the disk, flat on my palm, and he doesn't move right away. "I've never figured out how it works."

"It only obeys me." He stands up, stretches his hand toward me, but I don't budge. "May I have it, please?"

So you know your manners after all, I think to myself, watching him come closer to me. His stare shifts between my face and the disk, not really knowing where to look.

"Come, and get it." I want him to come closer, and I know he will. I can see it in his stare. Even if he narrows his eyes, I know he won't resist. I'm a woman in control, Kurtis. Face it.

He moves slowly, step by step, and I hold his gaze steadily. When he reaches out for the weapon, I hide it behind my back. I know it's childish, but what the hell. The end justifies the means.

"That's not funny." He looks so resolute, but I know he can't win against me. No man can. I always get what I want, and this time I want him. The idea dazes me for a short moment, but I notice it's true. He's the guy to chase away my loneliness.

"I think it is," I smile, and deliberately bite into my lower lip to draw his attention there. Of course he looks. And how he looks. So greedy, so sure of that I can't see it.

"I got you in Paris, I'll get you now," he says. Okay, another challenge. Don't think you can win against me, honey. He looks so confused now, like a little boy in the toyshop with all those things around him he wanted so much, and he has to choose one of them. Which one are you going to choose, Mr Trent? He touches my arm, his hand runs down on it so enticingly. No, Kurtis, it won't be so easy. Fight a bit more. I take a step back before he could take the disk from me, making him follow.

"But now we're playing on my field." When my back touches the railing, my breath catches, and I can feel my pulse run as his body bumps against mine. He's so lean, so muscular, so raw. I need to wet my lips as my throat dries as well. I want to stay strong, but it's harder and harder with every second he is so close to me.

"I'm here to get my weapon," he whispers, but I know he doesn't mean it. He can't mean it. Not when he presses against me like this, not when I feel every little quiver of his body on mine.

"Are you sure?" He looks at my lips again, and I see the hunger in his stare. The longing, the need, the urge he fights back so much.

"I'm here for only one thing. I want to…" Here we are, I think to myself, eager to hear him say it. Come on, big guy, admit it and it's all yours. The blue of his eyes swirls as he looks at me again. "I want to…"

"Say it, Kurtis," I whisper. His hand slips off my arm, moves to my waist in possessive touch. "The one thing you've come for. Say it." I can see that he's out of focus, only staring at me, but not really hearing my words anymore. Men, how easy it is to mesmerize them. You're not so cool anymore, are you? I'm not so cool either, but he won't ever find that out.

"I want to… kiss you." Finally. It wasn't so hard, was it? How I wanted to hear these words. They put a triumphant smile on my face.

"Then do it." I tip my head back. Enough of the teasing. A woman like me wants action, and it's time to stop playing.

He pulls me closer until my belly touches his, and he does what I've been waiting for. His kiss is so rough, so hungry, so… so much what I've been longing for. I let him taste and linger, before I take more of it, driving him into something deeper that swirls the mind and boils the blood. I snake my arms around his neck, dive my fingers into his hair, and enjoy it. Thoroughly enjoy it.

"I think you deserved it," I say after I manage to pull away. What am I doing? I want to go on, God knows how much I want to go on. I tasted him, and I want more, so much more, but not here. So I'll give him the chance to make a choice, and hope he'll do the right thing. He would be a fool if he didn't.

I run my hand down his chest, and it feels so good, but I don't want to go too far. Time will come for that too, but only if he wants it. So I give him the weapon, looking into his cool blue eyes, wanting to know so much what's going on in his head. He gives the impression of a calm, relaxed person, but I hope so much it's not the way he feels. It damn sure is not the way I feel. I walk up the stairs, look down from the top of it.

"Well, you have your chirugai now. Decide if there is anything else here you want." I wag my brow to make my intensions clear to him, but only a fool wouldn't understand it, and he doesn't look like a fool to me.

I walk away, deliberately slow, giving him the time to follow. God, I hope he will.

There's silence for a while, I can almost feel the vibration in the air. My body tenses. What if I made a mistake leaving him there? I still taste him in my mouth, my pulse still races, I feel the blood throb in my body. I stop for a moment, and close my eyes to listen. When I hear to footsteps running up the stairs, I know I've won. And I guess he's won too.


End file.
